


In My Stomach, For My Heart, Chainmail

by JackEPeace



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Pride and Prejudice References, Zombies, also PP and zombies because yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbi rolls her eyes. “Don’t you think about anything else?” </p>
<p>Daisy lays her weapon across her lap. “Why should I bother thinking about anything else?” She quirks an eyebrow. “If a zombie eats your brain, how are you going to think about anything at all?” </p>
<p>(A Pride and Prejudice and Zombies AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Stomach, For My Heart, Chainmail

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by my apparent new obsession with Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (and Jane Austen apparently?) and also because people on tumblr have a habit of encouraging me to make bad decisions. I think I just need enablers to feed my AU obsession. 
> 
> The title comes from the song "Hunger of the Pine" by Alt-J.
> 
> And be warned because this story continues violence toward zombies.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a girl of a certain age should be in want of a husband.

At least, that's what Daisy hears. As far as she's concerned, what she's in want of is some more oil for her musket.

In her opinion, a well-oiled musket and a newly whetted sword are far more valuable than a husband any day. Especially with all these disgusting Unmentionables stumbling around, making it difficult to go on a nice walk or take a carriage over to the closest village. Not that Daisy really does any of those things. Who has time for a nice walk when you have training to look after? And what business does she have taking a carriage to town? Her sole responsibility in the world is training and defending Mrs. Beecham's Home for Orphans. Having been one of Mrs. Beecham's poor, pathetic charges during her formative years, she's figures that it's only right. Plus, she is lucky enough to be under the tutelage of one of China's best and more skilled warriors, Lady May, who consented to add her sword to the defense against the zombies years before.

Daisy is in the midst of oiling her musket when Bobbi walks into the room, sliding her batons into the leather strap that she always keeps around her thigh. She lets her dress fall back into place, a mischievous smile on her face. "Have you heard the news?"

"What news?" Daisy is only vaguely interested in what it is that Bobbi has to say. Bobbi is the only person aside from May within several miles that she would actually trust against a hoard of zombies but that doesn't mean that they always see eye to eye about the important things. Bobbi didn't grow up an orphan and her training against the zombies hadn't really begun in earnest into her more formative years. "News about the plague?"

Bobbi rolls her eyes. "No. Don't you think about anything else?"

Daisy lays her weapon across her lap. "Why should I bother thinking about anything else?" She quirks an eyebrow. "If a zombie eats your brain, how are you going to think about anything at all?"

"Funny." Bobbi scoffs. "Hate to break it to you but life still goes on, even with Satan's Army running around the countryside."

Daisy makes no comment about this. She thinks that they might have better luck defending against the zombies if more people devoted their time and attention to training in all the new and creative ways to destroy them.

"Netherfield." Bobbi tells her frankly. "A new family is moving in."

"And what does that have to do with us?" Daisy looks at her friend blankly.

Bobbi sighs. "You're no fun." She flops down on the settee beside Daisy. "Aren't you the least bit curious? Besides, you know we need more patrons for the orphanage. We need to buy more clothes for the children and more weapons for the armory."

Daisy sets her musket aside. "May put you up to this, didn't she?"

Bobbi shrugs. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She singsongs in a way that makes it all too obvious that she knows exactly what Daisy is talking about.

Scowling, Daisy barely resists the urge to cross her arms over her chest. May is always telling her how pleased she is with Daisy's prowess with a blade and bow but her social skills leave a little to be desired. Apparently going to make nice with the new inhabitants of the closest estate to Mrs. Beecham's is the best way to get her to be a little less sharp.

And that's exactly what happens. A day later, Daisy finds herself on horseback, riding across the damp, untrustworthy ground with Bobbi and Mack beside her. Daisy can't help but keep her eyes peeled, constantly scanning the flat expanse around her, keeping an eye out of Dreadfuls. She feels better every time she feels the sheath of her sword knock against her thigh and the bounce of the musket strapped across her back.

They make it to the estate without issue, which Daisy figures that she should be grateful for but she's honestly a little bored with the whole thing. A good fight with a zombie or two would have been exactly what she needed to make the business of asking for money and donations less tedious.

With Mack as their chaperone, it's perfectly acceptable for them to be calling on the new inhabitants of Netherfield. Bobbi's gossip about the man who owns the house seems to be pretty reliable: Leo Fitz is young, handsome and perfectly willing to contribute to the defense and clothing of the poor, pathetic orphans, most of whom have been made parentless because of the plague of zombies.

As Fitz is inviting them into the parlor and offering refreshments, they're joined by another: a woman in a flowing dress with a high collar and a bored expression on her face. Her eyes travel across the visitors without much interest. Daisy can't help but study her with the same lack of interest; obviously someone in such inadequate clothes can't possibly be capable of offering any defense against zombies and therefore isn't someone Daisy thinks is worth her time.

"May I introduce my cousin, Lady Jemma Simmons." Fitz stands when she enters the room, gesturing toward the guests. "These are-"

"Interesting choice of blade." Jemma ignores Fitz's introductions, her eyes settling on the sword still at Daisy's waist. "Do you actually know how to use it?"

Daisy bristles at the insinuation. "I've been trained since I was young by one of China's finest-"

Jemma interrupts her with a scoff. "Oh, I see." She looks over at Fitz as though to share a personal joke, though Fitz only looks uncomfortable. "That explains it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Daisy sits up a little straighter, ignoring Bobbi as she puts a hand on her shoulder.

"I suppose your training makes you an adequate defense for the country." Jemma says breezily. "But it wouldn't get you very far in the city."

Daisy rolls her eyes. "What do you know about the deadly arts?" She questions with a shake of her head. "Can you even move in that dress?"

Jemma frowns at her. "Why should I have to dress for zombies?" She asks. "And, I'll have you know, I spent several years in Japan, training with the masters there."

This comment makes Daisy look at Jemma again, trying to see in her the steely nerves and muscle of someone who is well skilled in the art of killing zombies. Every part of her looks soft, aside from the curve of her jaw and the flintiness in her eyes. Her features are fair and while they're not unpleasing to look at, Daisy is still dubious her words.

"I find that hard to believe." Daisy tells her and Bobbi's hand once against finds its way to her shoulder, squeezing. She ignores her.

Jemma shrugs. "Any time you'd like a demonstration, I'd be happy to oblige."

At that moment, the maid comes in with the tea and coffee and Daisy finds herself feeling relieved, of all things. It's not because she doesn't trust her own abilities; May has trained her well and if she can hold her own against a herd of zombies then she can definitely handle sparring with this willowy girl in a poufy dress.

No, Daisy isn't sure what name to give the sensation currently settling into her stomach. Whatever it is, she's definitely glad that she has coffee to focus on now so she doesn't have to think about it too deeply.

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

"What was that all about?" Bobbi questions the following day, when they've finished their sparring for the morning and are preparing to go back into the orphanage. Daisy looks at her, confused. "Yesterday. At Netherfield."

Daisy barely manages to fight down a groan. She figured this particular conversation was coming; she'd been relieved when a zombie attack and other chores around Mrs. Beecham's had kept them too busy to discuss their visit with Fitz and his cousin. Apparently luck is not on her side.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Daisy says without looking at Bobbi, grabbing a towel and using it to wipe sweat off her forehead. "It was hardly eventful."

Bobbi snatches the towel away and snaps it at her. Daisy is too quick but she scowls at Bobbi nonetheless. "I thought you and his cousin were about to come to blows right there in the parlor." She remarks. "Jemma Simmons isn't a zombie, you know."

"Clearly." Daisy starts back toward the orphanage. "And why is our bickering my fault? She started it by offending my honor. In fact, I'm perfectly within my rights to seek retribution because she insulted my training and my teacher."

Bobbi laughs at her. "Will you listen to yourself?" She mimics Daisy's dour expression. "You're always so serious all the time. Jemma was perfectly nice and polite. And she's pretty, don't you think?"

Daisy doesn't look at Bobbi, too busy trying to figure out why that strange churning sensation is back in her stomach. Maybe it's something that she's been eating recently? "Well, she has a handsome face, her skin seemed like it would be quite soft-" She stops, looking over at Bobbi, who is grinning at her. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"It doesn't." Bobbi holds the kitchen door open for Daisy. "I was just curious to see if you could talk about something other than Unmentionables for a change."

Daisy steps past her, ignoring her comments and other attempts at conversation. She needs to find May and figure out if it's reasonable for her to go avenge her honor.

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Unfortunately, May does not seem to think that Jemma's comments warrant retribution and Daisy is certain that the only cure for her frustrations will be to find some zombies and dismember them slowly before finally killing them. At least that serves the added purpose of keeping the countryside safe.

Daisy has yet to come across any zombies when she stumbles upon something else. Or rather, someone else: Jemma Simmons, off doing a little walking of her own. Her dress is lighter this time, more adapt for comfort and movement than the ridiculous dress that she was in the day before. And this one is more formfitting as well, bringing attention to the dagger at her waist.

Jemma's head snaps up as soon as she hears Daisy approach and Daisy recognizes the coil of muscles that belong to someone who has spent a great deal of time training. That doesn't mean she has to like her any more than she already does.

"Oh, it's you." Jemma says, letting herself relax.

"Sorry to disappoint." Daisy says, quickening her pace. "I won't keep you."

Jemma's expression is unreadable and Daisy feels like every little part of her is being picked apart and appraised by the other girl. It's not exactly a welcome sensation.

Before Daisy can continue on her way, Jemma's voice stops her. "Just what brings you out this way?"

"Just needed some air." Daisy feels like it would hardly be polite to admit that she's looking for zombies to work out the frustration over Jemma's words from yesterday. Bobbi would be so proud.

Jemma nods, politely enough. "Well. It is nice weather for it."

They both glance skyward; it's cloudy and overcast and the air is thick with the promise of rain. Daisy looks back at her. "Maybe where you're from. But around here, rain means wet ground and wet ground means zombies."

Almost as though she's cursed them, the sound of shuffling and moaning reaches their ears from a nearby copse of trees. In unison, they step back, both reaching for their weapons. Daisy feels only momentarily distracted by the swish of fabric and the swatch of skin that is revealed when Jemma retrieves her dagger.

When the Dreadfuls emerge, they see that there's three of them, all men, dressed in tattered old suits like they were on their way to church when they were set upon by the other zombies. They haven't been dead for long, their faces pockmarked with rot and their gaits stumbling but strong. Newer zombies pose more of a threat but Daisy can hardly bring herself to be concerned. This is exactly what she needs right about now.

"I've got this." Daisy says without looking over at Jemma, who has her dagger gripped tightly in hand. "No need for you to break a sweat."

Even without looking at Jemma, Daisy can see the eye roll that Jemma gives her in response. "Hardly. My training in Japan ensured that I could battle these foes and more without perspiring in the slightest."

All the while, the zombies are still moving steadily in their direction, gnashing their teeth and drooling over the prospect of fresh brains. But Daisy looks away, glaring at Jemma. "It seems that you have never seen a display of the training by the Chinese masters in action." She says primly. "I would be happy to show you."

The zombies are within striking distance and Jemma takes a step back to avoid being swiped by one of them. She gestures toward the threesome, an indication for Daisy to show off her skills.

Daisy lifts her sword, bringing it down on the head of the first zombie; it splits open and the undead beast lets out a final growl before dropping to the ground. It takes Daisy's sword with it, pulling her slightly off balance because the blade is still buried inside the rotted corpse. The second zombie lunges at her and Daisy falls to the ground, narrowly avoiding the attack. She gives another yank, feeling her heart start to beat a little faster in her chest; this is hardly the best way to defeat a group of zombies: on the ground without a weapon.

"Would you like some assistance, Daisy?" Jemma questions, her voice sounding cool and composed, like she isn't in danger of watching a zombie murder her new neighbor.

"No." Daisy grunts, yanking on the hilt of her sword. "I've got this under control."

When she pulls, the sword finally comes loose, flying backward and into the chest of the second zombie. Thankfully, this action gives credence to her words. Daisy kicks out, shattering the knee cap of the zombie and bringing him to the ground as she finds her feet once more. She dispatches the other two zombies with ease, though she is embarrassed to admit that she's breathing heavily. She smooths down the front of her dress, brushing her tangled hair away from her face and leaving a streak of undead blood across her forehead.

"See?" Daisy looks back toward Jemma. Jemma is watching her with a strange expression on her face, her eyes shining and her cheeks pink. "That is how my master taught me." She wipes her blade clean on the shirt of one of the zombies.

Jemma clears her throat, blinking. "Well. I think your master will be quite disappointed in you. Your pride nearly resulted in you being torn apart by zombies."

Daisy feels a surge of anger in her chest and she sheaths her sword in order to have it out of her hands. "You're insufferable, has anyone ever told you that before?"

Jemma's expression falters and, once again, she clears her throat. "More than a few times." She mutters.

But Daisy doesn't bother to respond or stick around. She wanted a walk to find some zombies to kill and that's exactly what she did; the fact that she also ran into Jemma Simmons along the way, the very same person she's been trying to take her mind off of, has pretty much defeated the purpose.

"Good day, Miss Simmons." Daisy says simply, turning and walking back toward the orphanage.

After she walks a while, Daisy can't help but glance over her shoulder; she's not surprised to see that Jemma is following after her, no doubt heading back to Netherfield. But they both walk in silence, making the decision not to acknowledge one another.

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Over the next week, Daisy doesn't see Jemma and she can't quite figure out why she's even registered that fact. Instead of thinking about it, she throws herself into her training with May and sparring with Bobbi and protecting the country's orphans from the undead, trying to train Kara and some of the other younger girls in the deadly arts. But, the facts of the matter still remain: she's still thinking about Jemma, the country is still plagued by zombies and the orphanage is running out of money for the protection of the countryside and the children.

Once again, Daisy receives the news of her impending unhappiness from Bobbi. "A ball?" The word just tastes awful in her mouth as she repeats it back to Bobbi, an incredulous expression on her face. "Why would we be invited to a ball?"

"I get invited to balls, thank you." Bobbi replies snippily, as though she likes events where she has to wear corsets and dance with men who call her Barbara and talk about her like she isn't in the room. "And was that the only thing you heard? You missed the part about how Fitz is throwing the ball in an effort to garner money and more patrons for the orphanage. We have to attend."

Daisy sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "And I suppose his cousin will be there."

She doesn't mean to say the words. Honestly, it had been a private thought that apparently had decided to make it to her lips and tongue without her permission. Daisy looks up at Bobbi, aware that the damage has already been done judging by the grin on Bobbi's face.

"Yes." Bobbi manages around her smile. "I suppose she will be."

Daisy gets to her feet, picking up her sword from where it rests against the arm of the couch. "Stop looking at me like that." She tells her friend sharply. "His cousin is prideful and irritating and I simply meant that I'm dreading having to spend the evening in her presence. Now grab your batons, we need to train."

"Sure." Bobbi does as she's been instructed anyway, grabbing her batons and twirling them around her fingers. "I'm sure that's exactly what you meant."

Daisy makes sure to go after her with even more intensity than normal during their sparring, just because she can.

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Fitz's cousin is indeed at the ball, just as Daisy knew that she would be. Jemma is dressed in the most expensive finery, her hair carefully curled and coifed, piled atop her head and exposing her slender neck and shoulders. Not that Daisy notices that sort of thing. In fact, if she's noticing anything about Jemma at all it's only to make note of how she most definitely does not dress like a warrior and Daisy is still a bit in doubt of her abilities as a fighter of the undead, seeing as she's never actually seen her do any zombie killing. Even after she's made note of all these failings, it's still hard for her to pull her eyes away from Jemma. She seems to sparkle a little bit more tonight…though that's probably just because of all the candles glittering in the ballroom.

For a very brief moment, Daisy actually thinks about walking over to her and saying hello, as the rules of polite society would suggest. But she's hardly dressed anywhere near as nicely as Jemma is; her dress is a hand-me-down from May and looks more like the type of thing that a warrior would wear rather than a lady. Daisy has never really cared about that type of thing before, so she's not entirely sure why she cares about it now.

As though sensing her thoughts, Jemma's eyes suddenly find Daisy's and Daisy feels her cheeks start to grow hot. Jemma looks almost as though she might actually smile and she moves in her direction, which is the opposite of what Daisy wants right now. If Jemma judges her because of her training with a Chinese master rather than in the style of the Japanese, then who knows what she'll have to say about her drab gown.

Daisy turns around and runs smack into the thick chest of someone who feels more like a brick wall than a person. "Oh. I'm so sorry." She stumbles backward and two hands wrap around her elbows to steady her. "Thank you-"

When she looks into the face of the person she's just run into, she doesn't feel much like expressing her gratitude anymore. Grant Ward, an officer in Colonel Garrett's army to help protect the city from the hordes of the undead looking to feast on brains. He's dressed to the nines in his red coat with its shining brass buttons, polished sword gleaming at his side. The smile on his face reminds her more of a zombie than of a gentleman.

"Daisy." Ward greets her warmly enough, as though every run in they've had has always been pleasant. "I was hoping I would see you here."

Despite Daisy's repeated insistence that she, as an orphan and a warrior, has nothing to offer him by way of a wife or marriage, Ward hasn't seemed to be able to take 'no' for an answer. She should have suspected that he might be lurking around.

"Mr. Ward." Daisy says with forced civility. "I…didn't know your regiment was back in town."

Ward nods, smiling. "Just in time for the ball. I was hoping we might-"

"Daisy," a voice says from over her shoulder, "I was hoping we might share a dance."

Desperate to have the excuse to get away from Ward, Daisy answers even as she turns around. "Yes, of course."

Now she really understands the meaning of the phrase 'trapped between a rock and hard place.' On one side is Ward and on the other is Jemma, whom she's already accepted an invitation from. Wonderful.

At least something has been accomplished: Ward, looking disappointed and annoyed, disappears into the crowd once more, no doubt to look for some other eligible girl to dance with. Daisy slips her hand into Jemma's, allowing herself to be escorted toward the dance floor.

"I can resend my invitation if it would make you feel better." Jemma remarks after a solid minute has passed in silence. "I think you looked more at ease while fighting zombies."

Daisy laughs softly, shaking her head. "I think I am." Something a little like hurt flashes across Jemma's eyes and Daisy finds herself filled with the compulsion to apologize. "That's…not what I meant. I simply mean…I'm not one for balls and dancing."

"Neither am I." Jemma admits, though her hand rests pretty comfortably on Daisy's hip and she leads them through the steps effortlessly. "My parents were hardly pleased when I wanted to go to Japan to study the deadly arts instead of continuing with finishing school. I thought was done with balls."

Daisy isn't quite sure how to respond. She knows the polite thing to do would be to assure Jemma that she's glad that they're here together, able to share this dance. But instead she says, "What made you decide to start your training?"

Jemma thinks for a moment, continuing to lead them through the steps without seeming to put much thought into where she puts her feet. She definitely has the grace of a warrior, even if Daisy never has seen her in action.

"I couldn't stand the thought of just sitting around and being useless." Jemma says finally. "Obviously we were under attack; anyone who could should be working to defend themselves and their neighbors. I didn't want to leave that to everyone else. I didn't want to just do nothing."

That strange feeling in her stomach is back, though Daisy can't remember eating anything recently that would have twisted up her insides and make her feel all crazy. All this dancing and candlelight is making her feel light-headed and dizzy and Jemma's eyes look an awfully lot like the flickering of the candles all around them, which definitely doesn't help. She tries to swallow but her throat is dry.

"Daisy," Jemma begins and her voice is tight and unfamiliar, "I was hoping that I might…that I could ask…that you might consent…perhaps I could call on you sometime? Maybe we could go out and-"

Before she can finish, Daisy finds herself pulling away and Jemma's arms drop uselessly at her sides. Her head is even more confused and dizzy than it was before and on one hand is Jemma's brilliantly sparkling eyes but on the other are her insults and her annoying habit of making Daisy feel inferior in everything she does.

"I…" Daisy steps back, shaking her head. "I don't think…I need some air."

She turns away, hurrying out into the garden without bothering to look behind her and see Jemma's reaction to her response.

In the garden, Daisy is blessedly alone, though she can hear the sounds of a few shuffling and moaning zombies drifting through the air from a couple yards away. She grabs her sword, hurrying off to meet them, just to keep herself from thinking about Jemma.

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

"We have a bit of a problem." May tells Daisy when she steps into the kitchen the following morning. She's not really hungry for breakfast, her thoughts and stomach still too tied up, but she knows she needs to eat something before she joins May for their training. Though, seeing May this early outside of their dojo definitely suggests the truth to her words.

Daisy looks at her with trepidation. "What is it?" She asks. "The Dreadfuls?"

May furrows her brow. "If only it were that easy." She sighs. "Kara has run off with Officer Ward. I suppose they met at the ball last night and Ward convinced her to go off with him."

Daisy tightens her jaw, clenching her hands into fists. "Ward." She should have known. "Kara doesn't know anything about defending herself and Ward is hardly the type of person I would expect to look out for her well-being. Once he gets tired of her…" It goes without saying that Ward will not concern himself with making sure Kara finds her way back to Mrs. Beecham's.

May nods. "Exactly. We need to find her before she gets too far."

All thoughts of breakfast and training are forgotten. Daisy goes to tell Bobbi of Kara's misfortune and they quickly arm themselves and take the horses from the stable. They head their separate directions so as to cover more ground and as Daisy rides, she can't help but be annoyed with Kara for dragging her out into the countryside so early in the day, when the ground is still wet from the morning dew, making it perfect for the zombies to drag themselves out of.

Over the sound of her horse's hoof beats, Daisy can hear the sound of another approaching horse and she hopes that it's Ward or Kara and that she can drag the stupid girl back home.

But it's neither Ward nor Kara and Daisy feels suddenly struck with a strange kind of fear. May would be disappointed to know that she's letting herself feel panicked over the sight of a perfectly mortal woman.

Jemma is riding in her direction on a dappled grey mare and she seems surprised to see Daisy there. She reins her horse to a stop, looking embarrassed and flustered. "I…good morning, Daisy."

"Hey." Daisy clears her throat, squinting at Jemma in the rising sun. "I'm…sorry I just disappeared last night."

Jemma's embarrassment only seems to increase and she's unable to meet Daisy's gaze. "Don't be sorry. I…I shouldn't have tried to confess my feelings and I…I understand how you feel. It won't happen again."

Daisy isn't sure how she's supposed to feel about that particular response. She figures that she should be relieved, seeing as she doesn't want to have any sort of investment, any connection with Jemma, right? So why does she feel a little bit guilty and disappointed?

"I…" Daisy clears her throat and her horse shifts beneath her, pawing at the ground impatiently. "I have to go…I have pressing business…"

Jemma nods quickly, though Daisy's words don't seem to alleviate any of her discomfort. "Yes, of course. I won't keep you."

Daisy urges her horse back in the direction she'd been heading before Jemma stopped her, though, despite Jemma's earlier words, she does call after Daisy with the intention of keeping her. "Wait!" Daisy shifts in the saddle to face Jemma. "I wouldn't head that way. The next town…it's been overrun with the horde of Unmentionables. Colonel Garrett's regiment was stationed there but I don't know how many are still…"

Hearing Jemma's words only makes Daisy even more desperate to get on her way, though she knows that's the opposite of how she should feel. Stupid Kara. She would get herself into a mess like this.

"I have to go." Daisy tells Jemma. "Kara, one of the girls from the orphanage…she ran off last night with Ward. He's part of Colonel Garrett's troops. I have to try to find her, she's not trained in the deadly arts."

Jemma nods, though her expression suggests how much she wants to protest Daisy riding straight into a horde of zombies. Much to Daisy's surprise, Jemma puts her heels to her horse, turning the mare around and steering her in the direction of the town. A faint smile crosses Daisy's lips, though she doesn't know why. She kicks her horse, riding after Jemma, unwilling to let her take the lead. Though she doesn't mind as much when they fall into sync together, their horses hurrying neck and neck toward the Unmentionables.

As they get closer to town, they start to see the zombies, just as Jemma predicted. They dismount, dropping to the ground side-by-side. Jemma already has her dagger in one hand, her face grim, eyes narrowed. One of the Dreadfuls stumbles toward her, arms outstretched, teeth biting at the air. Jemma is on him in seconds, her knife buried in bone and sinew, cutting the head away and dropping the body uselessly to the ground.

Daisy heart skips a little bit in her chest. "So," she smiles, "you are trained after all."

Jemma wipes her knife clean on the fabric of her fashionable dress. "I suppose you'd like a demonstration." She teases.

Whether Daisy wants the demonstration or not (she does), she gets it anyway. Together, they fight their way through the zombies, dispatching them with extreme prejudice and speed. Being with Jemma, taking down the Unmentionables, is different than training and sparring with Bobbi. They seem to move in unison without any sort of thought or communication; Jemma is protecting her back and side and Daisy actually trusts her to do so. Just like Jemma is clearly trusting her to watch her back.

As they move closer to town, the sounds of canon and musket fire and shouting reach their ears. "The regiment hasn't fallen completely." Jemma pants as she cuts down the last of the zombies in their path. "Perhaps Kara has not succumbed to the strange plague."

"We can only hope." Daisy grumbles. "Though I might be inclined to kill her anyway."

The town is in ruin: the ground mud and swamp, churned up from hands and hooves. There are bodies sprawled out in the streets and a pile of smoldering bodies, though there's no one around to man the fires. All hands are clearly needed for managing the horde of Unmentionables, though Daisy can't tell who is winning at the moment.

And there's Ward, his hands wrapped tightly around a musket, his face streaked with sweat and grime, his eyes wide with fear. A zombie is rushing toward him and he can't seem to load his gun fast enough. Daisy hurries over to intercept the monster, unwilling to let her only connection to Kara disappear so quickly, though she wouldn't mind seeing Ward chomped on by a zombie or two. She slices the creature's head off cleanly, kicking the body aside so that she can get to Ward.

Ward looks at her, relief plain. "Daisy, how lovely to-"

"Where is Kara?" Daisy interrupts with a snarl, stepping toward him. "I know you've done something with her."

Ward starts to answer but his face quickly turns pale, his expression shocked and stricken. Daisy doesn't have the chance to turn around before something suddenly slams into her from behind, knocking her to the ground. Her sword goes skittering out of reach and she feels like all the breath has been burned out of her lungs and it's suddenly impossible to get it back.

Teeth snap just past her ear and Daisy only just barely turns her head away, narrowly avoiding the bite. She tries to twist around so that she can see the Dreadful, to get her footing and get the upper hand. She manages to turn just enough to free one arm, pushing her hand against the throat of the zombie as it tries to bite at her again. The drool and gore drips down onto her cheeks and her stomach turns.

"Ward!" Daisy calls, turning her head toward the soldier. "My sword! Quickly!"

Ward looks horrified and panicked. He steps backward, turning and running and not in the direction of her sword. Idiot. He better hope that this zombie kills her just so she can't come after him. Though if she does become a zombie, his are the first brains she's coming for.

The zombie swipes at her and Daisy pulls her hand away from the throat in order to grab the arm and pin it to the ground. Of course, this now frees up the mouth, which is the really dangerous part.

With a snarl, the zombie lunges for her again and Daisy cries out, unable to help herself. May will be so disappointed that she didn't die with dignity.

But suddenly, there's a dagger buried in the forehead of the Unmentionable and the teeth snap together uselessly one final time. Daisy shoves the body off herself, quickly scrambling to her feet. Jemma is standing over the body, relief clear on her face. "I thought you could use some assistance this time."

Daisy leans forward, pulling the dagger out of the zombie's head and handing it back to Jemma. "Remind me to thank you later."

After all, they've got their hands full right now.

Together, they manage to fight their way through the horde and to the grouping of soldiers still trying to defend the town. The men certainly don't seem to mind their help, though Daisy can't help but note that Ward is not among them. She hopes that he's zombie food by now.

While Daisy's attention should be primarily focused on the grouping of zombies, she can't deny the fact that a part of her attention is taken up by Jemma. She has no idea how she ever could have doubted Jemma's abilities as a warrior based just on her dress and flawless physical appearance. Though, Daisy does have to admit, that Jemma looks far better right now with her hair wild and her eyes shining with the lust of battle, her dress and face splattered with dirt and zombie blood than she ever did all trussed up for a ball.

Daisy really can't help herself. The zombies are gone, momentarily distracted by the soldiers and the bodies on the street and it seems like the perfect time to drop her sword and turns toward Jemma, pulling the woman toward her and pressing their lips together. When asked about it later, Daisy will be unable to come up with any logical explanation for what possessed her to abandon her weapon in the heat of battle and kiss Jemma. But she'll also have a difficult time regretting it.

And she definitely doesn't regret it now, not with Jemma kissing her back and holding her close. Daisy's heart is hammering in her chest and her skin feels hot and flushed, though this time it has nothing to do with the battle at hand.

Which, unfortunately, should probably take precedence. Daisy pulls away, immediately wishing that she was still kissing Jemma. "Oh. Sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"You should have." Jemma assures her quickly, her eyes shining with something else now. "But we can discuss that later."

Later. Suddenly Daisy has no idea why she was dreading such a conversation last night; she's suddenly very impatient to have it.

Together, with the remaining soldiers, they manage to eliminate the rest of the zombie horde, though it feels like hours have gone by since they first picked up their weapons to defend against the Unmentionables. Daisy is weary, feeling like she could fall down on the damp earth and sleep for the next several days but as tired as her bones and muscles are, her blood and nerves feel alive with the memory of the kiss and the closeness of Jemma.

"We need to find Kara." Daisy says, turning back toward Jemma. "If you need to go back to Netherfield-"

Jemma shakes her head. "No. Not if you'd still like me here."

Daisy smiles, turning away and hurrying toward the army officers. Thankfully, one of the men still standing is able to direct them to Kara, whose interest in getting out and seeing the world has been successfully quenched thanks to the zombie war that has just happened all around her.

They don't speak much as they ride back toward Mrs. Beecham's, though Daisy keeps letting her gaze wander toward Jemma. The kiss continues replaying in her mind and she feels that stomach churning sensation all over again, though she's starting to understand where it's coming from.

When they return to the orphanage, Kara is quick to slide off the back of Daisy's horse and hurry inside; she seems all too relieved to stay within the walls now. With Kara gone, Daisy feels like she can comfortably look at Jemma again, that she can meet her eyes and let her feelings show plainly on her face.

"I…" Despite the torrent of thoughts and feelings that had been churning her mind during the ride back, Daisy suddenly feels at a loss for words. "Thank you for coming with me to find Kara. I don't think I could have done it without you."

Jemma nods, seeming equally as tongue-tied. "Of course. I'm sorry that I offended your pride and your master earlier. You are quite the admirable warrior."

"Thank you." Daisy swallows. "As are you. You are very impressive with the blade and-"

Jemma closes the distance between them with a kiss and Daisy is relieved and more than happy to be done with an attempt to make small talk. There's really nothing more important than kissing right about now anyway. Even the Dreadfuls would be hard pressed to pull her away.


End file.
